Red Jeans Versace
by LavenderHyde
Summary: Lord Beelzebub and Archangel Gabriel both seemingly have similar ideas at the same time. (contains show spoilers) mini fic, just a blurb because i want these two to get along, after seeing their interactions in show.


Beelzebub never thought of themself as a tattler. They weren't. Usually. They were the Lord of Hell; the only time they ever needed something to get done around the damn place, they, or Hastur or Dagon, would handle it. They were the top gun around the underworld for the most part.

But, after the four horsemen of the apocalypse were demolished (rather easily, they might add) by a couple of measly human _children_, Beelzebub had been at a complete loss of what to do.

When Gabriel had shared the same fear as they did about asking their sides to step down from the pedestals of combat, they didn't feel so bad. But let's be honest- they felt fucking bad. Because not knowing how to handle a situation meant consulting… _Him_.

Him- Lucifer. Satan. Ruler of the underworld, father of the Adversary; Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of this World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness- and all together, one big scary mother_fucker_.

Everyone had been so afraid of Him, cowering at the sound of His name spoken aloud, passing whispers that hastily said to stop in case He heard. And all it took for the Antichrist to bubble Him down into a red simmering reduction in the swallet that was His quarters, was to quite sternly deny Him of His place in the family. Poor bugger.

The demons of the underworld were, to say the least, fucking _pissed_ about not having their war. Beelzebub could only imagine that Gabriel was having an equally tough time* getting his side to stand down as well. Even after Beelzebub had gotten things mostly under control, and had even begun to feel rather proud of themself for the work they put in, the trial of the demon Crowley put a stake in their plans yet again, as well as putting a shock of fear directly into the hearts of Beelzebub, Hastur, Dagon, and even the Archangel Michael themself. ...And what the hell was a rubber duck?

It was only after all of that, that the Lord of Hell figured that maybe now, of all times, would be a good time to take a few of their vacation days. And apparently, almost the same exact series of unfortunate events had lead Archangel Gabriel to the same exact conclusion.

*_If not a **tougher** time; those Angels were like a pack of wild dogs, they were. Gabriel was one of the only archangels that didn't bite ravenously at the ankles of anyone who pissed them off. Fucking Sandalphon_.]

It was startling for Beelzebub to materialize themself onto earth (which really was a lovely place, despite the fact they'd only spent around 10 minutes there in total), right at the exact same time as the Archangel Gabriel.

"Oh. Beelzebub. It's a surprise to see you here," Gabriel said, wiping the confusion off his face with a cool demeanor.

"What are you doing here?" Beelzebub asked, folding their arms behind their back, aggressively avoiding eye contact with the angel. "What are you doing _right_ here, in the _same_ place as I?"

"Getting the heaven away from _Heaven_," Gabriel grunted, tugging at the edges of his suit. Beelzebub scrunched their nose up, before turning and finally looking at Gabriel.

"Wait, you what?"

"I've come to the conclusion that Heaven is full of shit heads," Gabriel said, raising his eyebrows. "I could use a break. ...How did telling your side off go?"

"It went... alright," Beelzebub said. "And by alright, I mean that it went exactly as bloody expected. You?"

"Horrible. I learned that Uriel has a tendency to grab people by the collar when he's angry, and he is much stronger than I anticipated," Gabriel explained under his breath, as he took a few paces for one of the park benches that they had materialized by. "All of the other angels would have loved to have thrown me into the hellfire as well, so I ducked out while I could."

Beelzebub grimaced. At least they had Dagon and Hastur (and up until late, Ligur) around to generally back them up, but Gabriel seemed to be surrounded by a few fucking idiots who wanted the war just as bad as the rest of the angels and demons. Bad work conduct in their opinion, but no one asked.

"It's no Wonder the outcasts were the way they were," Beelzebub said, tossing themself onto the bench, and hanging a leg lazily over the armrest. Gabriel followed suit, sitting much more proper, yet still casually, next to them.

"You think so?" He asked, a bite of distaste in his words. "I still think they were just fucking annoying. Got more word of praise about Aziraphale from the Almighty than anyone else- yet he _gave away_ his flaming sword! Who _gives_ away a flaming sword gifted to you by God _Herself_?"

Beelzebub sputtered out a cackle, leaning forward to smack their hands against their knees.

"That thing was the _angel's_?! How the hell did War get it? Did he just _hand_ it to her?"

"No- he gave it to _Adam_! Not Adam the Antichrist- _The_ Adam. As in Eve," he yelled, tossing a hand out in front of himself in a wild gesture. "And the Almighty didn't even question it!"

Beelzebub couldn't contain their laughter at this point. They knew the angel and demon they had kept their eyes on for six millennia had been a couple of bloody halfwits- but this was just hilarious.

"Not even the demon Crowley is capable of something that stupid," Beelzebub said after a moment, wiping a stray laughter tear from their eye with the palm of their hand. "All he ever did was scream at those so called 'house plants'. Which, mind you, was pretty embarrassing, but he didn't arm one of the _horsemen_!"

Even Gabriel cracked a smile at this, his eyebrows knit together as he shook his head in a humorous disbelief.

"I will give them this, though," he said after a moment of silent laughter through his nose. "This place really isn't half bad. Much more to see than there is up there."

"Normally I wouldn't agree with an angel- but you're right. And it doesn't smell like shit."

"Doesn't smell like shit. Does Hell smell like shit?" Gabriel asked, and Beelzebub nodded their head viciously.

"_Yeah_. What does Heaven smell like? Pine-sol?"

"Perfume."

"_Perfume_?"

"Specifically _Red Jeans Versace_\- 1994. Sandalphon visited a "Macy's" in America _once_, before deeming the smell crucial for his working conditions, and convinced the Metatron to make it the 'Official smell of Heaven'. Now we all have to suffer."

"Both seem like rubbish," Beelzebub gagged, before sprawling out in a stretch against the chair. "'Least it doesn't smell like either here. I might just be willing enough to learn to like it. Or maybe I just don't want to go back and deal with a bunch of feral demons."

"The latter. And Likewise."


End file.
